A Dream, The Dreamer and A Changing Girl
by BrooklynTwiGirl
Summary: Bella Swan is a sexually repressed college student who equates her lack of a love life with being an Old Maid. Edward Cullen Masen is the psychotherapist who helps her through it and falls in love which he though was impossible. Sparks fly!
1. Preface

Preface

Virginia Woolf: Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.

All our lives, we had different ideas and moral values, which in the end were somehow on the same parallel and became ultimately intertwined.

We were raised by loving families into different backgrounds, in completely opposite social classes, and yet we ended up here in this place and at this fateful time, together.

We don't make the ideal romantic couple you find in fairy tales or Olde English novels. I was always a girl of few words with an inability to express myself, and he is a young man changed by circumstances beyond his control with a greater ability to see through and past any mere mortal flaws.

He raised his eyes to meet mine and as I walked forward to meet him with an effervescent smile, I thought to myself what a miracle it is that we met at all. He sees me for who I am when I am with him and who I have the potential to be on my own. Fate sealed us being together. After all, I am just a frail, young girl who has not yet discovered the real me.

This is our story.


	2. Chapter 1 The Dorm

The Dorm

I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who brought them to life so beautifully.

This is my version of a completely different meeting and maturing of Bella and Edward and their relationship!

**Norman Lindsey**: The best love affairs are those we never had.

My name is Bella Swan. I am 21 and living on site at Washington State College. I am majoring in English with the hopes of becoming a writer.

Our Co-ed dormitory is the most popular place on university grounds. This is perhaps because a co-ed living status is rare on this campus. Of 500 available rooms on site, only 50 of those, housed in 1 building can claim co-ed status. This is not where I would have preferred to be housed; however the university doles out dorm rooms like a lottery. I happened to win this one.

Constant parties, college games and loudness pretty much relegate me to the library with my nose in a book most nights, returning to my room only to sleep. My roommates and their friends snicker behind my back because I am too unusual for this life. I do not pay attention though because I am here to get an education. I must keep up my grade point average seeing as I am here on a full ride scholarship. Tonight however was different.

My roommates were having a "tame" party and asked if I wanted to stay. I figured what the heck and said yes. The small party they promised stayed just that – small. There were never more than 10 people in our room the whole night and it was mostly couples kissing and holding hands and cooing over one another. Things that got hotter than that were then retired to the privacy of the engaging couples own rooms.

I was quite sure by then that the invitation to stay was another dig at my single boyfriend-less status.

After everyone was gone and the main sitting room was restored to some semblance of order, my roommate retired to her bedroom and I to mine. Thankfully, the co-ed dorms were set up with actual bedrooms with locking doors rather than a studio style common room.

After a refreshing shower, I lay my head on my feathery down pillow, and after tossing and turning for about 30 minutes rehashing the events of the evening, I fell into a fitful slumber.


	3. Chapter 2 Sleep 'til Dawn

**Sleep 'Til Dawn**

**I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who brought them to life so beautifully. **I do not own Robert Pattinson or any part of his wardrobe which is mentioned here but Cannes Rob is my favorite so I 'borrowed' his wardrobe for the purposes of this chapter.

**Henry David Thoreau**: Dreams are the touchstones of our character.

_There is a man shrouded in misty clouds. I cannot see his face, although there is awareness that he is quite taller than my 5' 4" stature. He is built lean and yet there is also indication he works out due to his muscular frame. He wears a black polo style shirt, black pants with unhitched suspenders and black leather shoes. He is walking straight towards me. I am immobile, unsure if he is friend or foe. He stops directly in front of me. I look up and yet his face is not visible to my eyes._

_He leans down and gently places his lips over mine. He coaxes my mouth open with his tongue. He wraps his left arm around my lower back and moves his right hand to my breasts. He is lifting my shirt from behind, giving him access to the skin there at my lower back and is now moving his lips across my face to the sensitive skin behind my left ear. He is nibbling on my neck and I am getting restless. I am going weak at the knees. Somehow he has fully removed my shirt and I am now clad only in my feminine lacy bra and jeans. His delectable mouth is moving lower on my body and is now licking and sucking the skin at my cleavage. I moan at this unfamiliar sensation, biting my lower lip to stifle the sound, however hearing a little giggle from my mystery man lets me understand this is okay._

_His hands are doing their own dance on my body. One rubbing and squeezing my ass cheeks and the other stroking every inch of otherwise exposed skin. My own hands have started to explore his body, roaming up to his muscular chest, down to his washboard abs and around to his smooth back. There is a slight pause as he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head granting better access._

_I realize I am starting to enter a forbidden zone but the wonder of what I am feeling hinders me from stopping. I begin running my hands up his pecs and lightly scrape his nipples with my well groomed fingernails. He gasps and I continue. He has removed my bra, again without my awareness, and is palming my breasts squeezing and stroking. He lowers his head and is now licking the sensitive skin at my nipple region with a light sucking motion and an occasional nip which feels amazing! _

_His hands are at the waistband of my jeans, which feel extremely tight now due to the fact that I have been squeezing my legs together tightly to prevent that achy feeling and the pool of wetness which I am sure he can feel as we are touching even through the denim we both wear._

Somewhere in the deep recesses of the world a radio buzzes signaling a new day.

Please do not hate me for waking Bella up at this point because there is much more to come with the mystery man. Please let me know what you think – review please!


	4. Chapter 3 Morning Comes

**Morning Comes**

**I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who brought them to life so beautifully. As I write these chapters you will notice who each character from SM has become in my personal story.**

**Ralph Waldo Emerson**: Judge of your natural character by what you do in your dreams.

I sprang out of bed abruptly, heart pounding out of my chest, sweat pouring off of my body and wondering where the hell that sordid dream sprang forth from. I feel dirty and really need to shower hoping the throbbing ache in my pelvic region will dissipate. As well, I am hoping the shower will help rid me of those impure images and thoughts from my mind. Thank god my roommates' room is on the other side and that she sleeps so soundly she could not hear my distress as I gathered my toiletries and towels and ran to the bathroom.

Reaching for the shower dials I decide the water is going to have to pure icy cold both to wake me up enough to be alert for the class day ahead, but also to cool my overheated skin and wash away 'the dream'. As I stand under the cold water, I am stunned at the sensations that a dream stranger was able to pull from the deep recesses of my being. I have not known men in this manner. No sordid past lovers for me. Yes, I had boyfriends in high school, three of them. The furthest I went in a sexual fashion was French kissing and I did not even like that act very much. After a few dates, they all moved on to girls who were 'faster' than I chose to be. I remained friends with Eric, Mike and Tyler who eventually settled down with their current steady girlfriends.

Being raised by a single mother whose marriage lasted only long enough for her to give birth to me and then run off to raise me on her own, has not endeared me to the idea of a relationship with a man or *gasp* SEX. Yes, my mother had boyfriends; however none of them stuck around too long. She never remarried and left me with babysitters when she dated until I turned 16. I saw my father a few times a year during school vacations. Being in the state of Washington now allows me to see him a little more often than before and forge a grown-up bond with him.

As I feel the icy water sluice down, I try to analyze what could have led to that type of dream. Was it the gathering last night with all those couples flaunting their relationships by kissing and caressing one another in front of me? Could it be related to the English project I am currently struggling with? This one counts for 20% of my overall grade. We are supposed to theorize on a romantic literary couple and compare the problems they face in their era and what those troubles could be escalated to in the world of the 21st century. Or, I shudder to think is it something else entirely that I cannot or do not want to put a name to.

Realizing these musings have gone on long enough, I must get ready to go to class, therefore I finish my shower and head back to my room to dress for the day ahead. It is pretty much the same wardrobe everyday, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt or sweatshirt from Gap or Old Navy and my favorite pair of worn out chucks.

I grab my books and head out to English, my first class of the day. Today we are going to inform the professor which literary characters we have chosen for our paper. This was not an easy decision for me, being such a bookworm because I have no favorites. My choice is Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice. I just hope that I can do the assignment justice by picking such conflicting characters.

Arriving, I slink to a seat in the back of the classroom so I can observe and hopefully not be called on in class. Unfortunately, I realize this makes the professor look more closely for the non-participating students. Not that I have anything to worry about due to the fact that I have a 3.4 GPA equivalent to an A-. The rest of the students start trickling in and a few come to talk to me about the upcoming assignment. After a few minutes everyone has found their class seats.

The English professor comes in the room and everyone gets quiet. He is of average height with bleach blond hair, a New York accent and is probably one of the better professors in my personal schedule. Mr. Carlisle has an open door policy to his students regarding schoolwork questions and never crosses the boundaries of getting personal. He leaves that to our student counselors and always reminds us that if there are ANY sorts of problems that is where we need to go to discuss them.

The question in my head is was my dream last night a one time thing? Could it just have been overstimulation from taking a risk and hanging out with my roommate Rosalie? I sure hope so. I take out my notebook and get ready for the lesson ahead.

**Readers:** I mention the English assignment several times because there is an importance later on as I continue to write these chapters. Please give me your thoughts on the characters Bella has chosen and please let me know what you think should happen next. Also, please let me know anything you feel about the 'Mystery Man'. Thank you and please review!


	5. Chapter 4 The Day From Hell

**The Day from Hell**

**I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who brought them to life so beautifully. As I write these chapters you will notice who each character from SM has become in my personal story.**

**Anatole France**: To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.

Mr. Carlisle starts each class in the same exact fashion. He calls attendance, tells what the lesson is that day, usually with a quote or quip from his repertoire, and goes randomly around the room like a pop quiz on the week's assignment. It's a good way to gage where each of his students understands the material. He almost always picks on the obvious slackers. Yes there are social group separations although the faculty would not like to admit it. I am just me – a loner.

While waiting to be called on, my mind wanders to the day ahead. Mathematics, Creative Writing, Lunch, Language Studies and a meeting with my career counselor. Then off to the Library to do my homework, retiring to my room at curfew to sleep and repeat again until end of semester. Thankfully I only go to school 4 days a week leaving me 3-day weekends.

Mr. Carlisle called on me as I snapped back to present just as I predicted. I gave him the answer to the question and then he queried me on which literary characters I have chosen for my paper. Class proceeds and at the end, Mr. Carlisle calls me over and asks if I am 100% sure that this is whom I want to use as the characters I have chosen are difficult. I answer in the affirmative and he sends me on my way.

Crap! I am late for Mathematics! Upon arriving I receive a very stern look from Dr. Aro. To any other professor I would explain what held me up but you did not make excuses to Dr. Aro so I moved to my seat and opened my notebook. Math was my worst subject and the class where my mind wandered most easily to other subjects. I tried to concentrate on the lesson as it started, however my thoughts unwittingly wander to my dream.

_He has moved his mouth back to my face and is kissing me deeper and harder with those delectable lips that I am coming to love the feel of and wrapping his tongue around mine in a primal dance. His fingers have burrowed into the recesses of my jeans and he has pulled me closer to his body if that was even possible. His fingers are moving restlessly over my hips and down my thighs over my panties. I can feel his erection at my midsection straining his jeans. I amazingly am not frightened by it as I am becoming further aroused by these new sensations. I wrap my legs slightly around his in order to get closer contact. Feeling as if we are melding into one being…_

In the corners of my awareness I hear my name called and I am jerked abruptly back to the classroom. Dr. Aro is waiting for me to answer the problem and of course I cannot so I get a minor scolding and that I must report to the Dean of Students because academically I am not doing well in his class.

My next course is my favorite and the one I feel I do my best in, Creative Writing with Dr. J. Hale. Dr. Hale is the youngest of my professors and the one that allows us to express ourselves the freest. Today he has decided to give us a free writing period in which we can write about any topic we want as long as it is put into an acceptable format such as an essay or a short story. Usually I find these classes the most soothing but my mind is in a jumble over my nighttime dream, my earlier daydream and the imminent meetings with the dean and my career counselor.

I try to clear my mind and write about a 'safe' topic yet my thoughts once again turn to him. As I have not yet seen his face I can only imagine what he looks like. I picture a young face, with a chiseled jaw, a slightly offset nose, blue-gray eyes and a full head of glorious hair that I can run my fingers through just for fun as well as during our more romantic moments, preferably a dirty blonde/light brown combination. I turn in my assignment not even knowing or caring what I wrote.

At lunchtime, I decide to just sit and try to make sense of mathematics again knowing I have to meet with the Dean to explain why I am faring so poorly there and not other subjects. The meeting with my career counselor worries me as well because the only sure thing is that I want to be a writer. I am not sure what to write. I only know I do not want to be a journalist writer for magazines or newspapers. Most of these writers are the most hated of the profession due to the continual digging it takes to get the story. I guess I will have to wait and see what she thinks.

Languages is my last class for the day and right now I wish I was anywhere but here knowing what faces me when I walk out of this classroom today. Professor Demetrius is fierce in teaching this course because he hails from the old country and expects each of us to have the perfect Italian knowledge from conjugating verbs to the trilling of our 'r' vowel. I am pulling a B- so far in this course and will be satisfied at the end of the year with a B.

As I walk out of the classroom and down the long dreaded hallway to the office of the Dean of Students, I think one last time of what I will say so as not to be taken out of school. The Dean of Students frightens me because of his sheer immenseness. He is tall and built like a football player and towers over most of the students here. Dean Emmett is even more frightening to me than Dr. Aro.

Once in his office we have a conversation about my mathematical ineptitude.

"Dean Emmett, I know that Dr. Aro has requested I come and speak to you regarding my poor grades in his course. I know that mathematics is a required course in order for me to get my degree at this university; however I feel that I might need a student tutor to get through this course."

"Miss Swan, it just so happens that I was thinking the same exact thing as I was reviewing your academic record prior to this meeting. I happen to have an excellent young woman whom I know would be able to help you. I will arrange for her to call on you in your dorm room and then you can arrange your schedule with her. You are an excellent student, and if you could apply yourself a little differently in Dr. Aros' class, I do believe you will get along just fine for the next few semesters until you graduate."

"Thank you Dean Emmett. When may I expect this call and what is the young ladies name?"

"Her name is Alice. I will arrange for her to call you this evening if that is convenient."

"Tonight is perfect. Thank you again Dean Emmett."

I walk out of the office feeling slightly better and head to see Ms. Victoria my career counselor.

**Readers:** Please let me know what you think should happen next with Bella. I love my mystery man but his story is already complete in my head as to who he is and how he will come into Bellas life. Thank you and please review!


	6. Chapter 5 Career Counseling

**Career Counseling**

Readers: Once again the disclaimer that I DO NOT OWN any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who wrote the Twilight series. I love her characters and they have inspired me to write this fanfic. Please if you are reading this I would love reviews!!!!

**Robert Frost:**** "The difference between a job and a ****career**** is the difference between forty and sixty hours a week"**

As I enter the outer room of Ms. Victoria's office, I attempt to swallow my building fear. This meeting is what I have dreaded all day. She has the power to make or break me based on her evaluation. Being in the second semester a two-year major, she gets to say if I am cut out to be a writer or if there is another career better suited for me. I think "Who the hell is this woman 'really' to judge my chosen career path? I know what I want to be." However, respecting her position at this university, I would still prefer to be anywhere else at this moment.

Her assistant says "Ms. Victoria is running late so have a seat." I was abruptly dismissed in that moment. I am seated and start thumbing through a magazine while I wait. Ms. Victoria allows few magazines to mar her spotless waiting room so I was surprised to see any reading material here. This one is a science fiction magazine and the main focus this month is vampires and the media glamorization they are receiving at the current time. Everywhere you turn; there is another book, television show or movie being written on this subject. As a matter of observation, the only magazines allowed into this domain mostly focus on abject subjects.

I liken Ms. V (as I prefer) to a Venus flytrap, sucking in and devouring men. She is always with a different guy on her arm and I do mean always! I hear a loud clacking down the hallway. You can tell the mood Ms V is in by the way she dresses and height of her heels. Today she is buttoned up in a grey pinstripe suit with a tight pencil style midi skirt, a fire engine red blouse with heels at least 4" to match. Her hair is pulled back and there is a glint of fury in her eyes. I swallow hard and get up to follow her inside. **Today is just not my day!**

**Miss Victoria's POV**

Christ! This is not my day! I'm running late which is unacceptable and am frustrated about having to face another student whom I am sure will simper and tell me they know what is best for their life. I feel like cancelling the rest of the day and heading to the gym or calling one of my 'men' to work it off. However, I know my responsibilities and head down the hall to gather my next 'case'.

Glancing one more time at the file I am holding, Isabella Swan – English major, I retreat. These are the toughest students to council on a career because their field of study limits them in professions. For example, they could become authors, journalists, reporters, or as so many do they will become what we call perpetual students without a true calling.

Approaching the waiting room, through the glass I see this little mousy girl, not at all what I expected from the passionate writings in her file. She is flipping through one of the few magazines I will allow in my domain. I put out educational magazines rather than entertainment and gossip clap trap media.

"Isabella, it is so nice to meet you finally. Come to my office where we can talk." As she follows me, I glance back and note her eyes are glued to the floor and she shuffles a bit reluctantly which tells me she fears the outcome of today's talk. Apparently she, like many other students are under the impression that my evaluation is the end all - be all of their chosen career direction. These misguided youths are not aware of their full potential of controlling their own destiny. We reach my office and I am seated behind my desk. "Isabella, pull up a chair and we will get started."

**Bella's POV**

As I follow Ms. V to the 'Inner Sanctum' as her office is known, I keep my eyes trained on the floor, directly on her red stilettos. I read once that red is a color of dominance and power. I suppose this must be true because Ms. V wears it a lot. My stomach is churning violently as we reach our destination and she requests me to have a seat. She has twice called me by my full name of Isabella which I hate with a passion, and I have not yet attempted to correct her.

"Isabella, I have brought you here to discuss what you wish to do with your degree upon leaving this university. Your records indicate a good grade point in all classes except one and that situation will need to be remedied in order for you to maintain your scholarship. Before we discuss your career avenue can we please address this matter?"

"Miss Victoria, Mr. Emmett has provided me with the means to acquire a student tutor to assist me in that one class and I will be arranging a schedule with her tonight."

"Very good Isabella, now we can get on with the vocation questions. What and where do you perceive yourself being after you graduate from our fine establishment?"

"Miss Victoria, firstly please call me Bella. I much prefer it over Isabella. Second, I have been writing since I was young and the only thing 100% for sure is that I would love to write and see the world. I am hoping for a career with grit to it. I have always kept to myself not wanting attention, however since being here, I have found that life is to be lived and I am trying to change, and I hope my chosen career path will help that somewhat"

"Duly noted, Isabella. That really doesn't tell me too much however. You have several career options open to you, such as journalism, travel correspondent or reporter. What are your interests when it comes to writing such as length, style, favorite books or authors?"

Noting she called me Isabella, AGAIN, "I have always loved the classics such as the works of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters and Hemingway. I think after all these years I favor more the prosaic style of writing and would love to create something memorable so that my time on this earth will have touched someone else."

"Well Isabella (6X), I think after telling me this, as your counselor, I feel you need to speak with a professional. I can recommend someone and he is really very good at bringing out those inner workings of our minds. I think that after a few sessions with him, you will have a clearer outlook, so the next time we meet you will be able to express your proposed occupation in a clearer fashion."

"Umm, okay if you think this might help, I will gladly try it. I really want to do well here at university Miss Victoria and succeed after I graduate. Umm, this is not about hypnotism or anything weird like that?"

"Now why would you think that Isabella? Not all psychologists, therapists or psychiatrists believe in those unusual methods. Here is his card, his name is Dr. Edward Cullen Masen and I have known him for years and sent several students to see him and they have come back to me with profuse thanks and have succeeded in their livelihoods."

I take the card from Ms. V, thank her for her time, and head out of her office across campus to my dorm to await a phone call from my hopefully soon to be math tutor Alice.

**Readers:** Please let me know what you think so far. In my head there is one more chapter before you get to meet Edward. I love the suspense!!! Thank you and please review!


	7. Chapter 6 Introverted Thoughts

**Introverted Thoughts**

Readers: I write this every chapter – A reminder: I DO NOT OWN any of the characters in this story. They are the property of Stephenie Meyer who wrote the Twilight series. Her characters have inspired me to write this. Please if you are reading this I would love reviews!!!!

I am dedicating this chapter to a few people. Twitter friends, reelhimin Mrs_Robward, iheartpimpettes and vampire4u. These people have touched my lives in small ways that help to see a bigger picture that life can be.

**Marian Wright Edelman:**** "No person has the right to rain on your dreams."**

Upon leaving Ms. V's 'domain' I think to myself that she has no idea of the real me, what I am capable of and pfft, her ridiculous suggestion that I should seek professional help, it's just completely absurd. I just need to focus more on the end goal and hopefully be more prepared the next time I have to meet with her.

I arrive back at my dorm room to very strange music playing from Rosalie's room. I head to my room where I turn on my PC, plug in my cell to charge it and gather my thoughts to begin my assignments. I will leave Math for last first knowing it will take me the longest, and second, if I am able to meet with Alice tonight, maybe she can help with it. Its 5:00 PM and I expect her to call me soon to arrange a tutoring schedule.

Therefore, my choices of homework are either English or Creative Writing. I choose to start with CW as I quickly remember that day's English class. Mr. Carlisle had looked at me in an odd manner when he heard that I chose the characters from Pride and Prejudice for my essay assignment. He seemed a bit puzzled and I really need to ask him about that during next class before I can get started with the project.

As I read the instructions for the creative writing homework topic, I groan loudly. Dr. Hale has requested an essay on dreams. Not just any dreams, our own personal ones. Actually, the explanation is phrased like this: Please write about the last dream you remember having, how it made you feel, and your personal interpretation of the dream. Be as specific as possible, noting places, colors, people involved and any other detail no matter how trivial it may be. Whoa, that's kind of deep even for a college writing course. There is no way I can write about the dream I had last night, god I can barely think about it, I am still so wigged out that I could have imagined any such thing.

As I do when I hit a stumbling block, I start tapping my pencil on the desk to think about what I could possibly write that takes me away from what I dreamt last night. The last dream I remember prior to that was many years ago as a kid – puppy dogs, flowers and some such nonsense. I really don't remember my dreams. I think sleep dreams are just frivolities I can live without. Silence, except for the tapping of my pencil, my eyes drift shut and my mind wanders.

_He grips my hips tighter then moves his hands to the front of my jeans. He carefully unbuttons and unzips the denim, leaving them at my waist. Moving one arm around my back, he suddenly turns my body so I am facing away from him and yet pulling me towards him so my back is leaning into his chest. I can feel the heat radiating from his body into mine as he holds me across my ribcage against him as if he was completely aware that my legs are trembling so bad I can barely stand on my own. His other hand is playing with the flesh directly above my panties, caressing like butterfly wings. He slides his hand into my panties now and I am sure he can feel how wet I am for him. He is teasing me right now because he is playing everywhere except that sweet spot I so long for him to touch. He whispers "How does that feel?" and in my incoherency and realization that he speaks, I reply 'So good." _

_He ever so carefully slides his leg between mine from behind and pushes my legs open even wider. He is kissing my neck and I am striving for something I do not know. His hand slides further downward and he finally brushes my clit with his fingertips. I jump a little at the unfamiliar sensation then settle into his ministrations. He is caressing my breasts and ever so slightly pulling and pinching my nipples with the hand still holding me against him and using the fingers of his other hand, sliding them back and forth along my vaginal channel._

A phone rings in the distance and I realize it is my mobile. Shaking my head to ward off yet another daydream I can ill afford, realizing I did not write a single word for my CW class, and reorganizing my thoughts, I answer. It is Alice and she wants to know where we can meet to set up a schedule for Math tutoring. I suggest the campus coffeehouse and she says she will meet me there in 30 minutes. I agree and go to get ready.

As I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror while brushing my hair, I notice my flushed cheeks and my glazed eyes and hope that nobody else will notice and think that I am on drugs or some such nonsense. I grab my bag and rush out before I am late and leave to meet my *crossing my fingers* new math tutor.

**Alice's POV**

Mr. Emmett has requested that I tutor a student each year I attend university as part of my educational credentials. He claims each year that he is presenting me with the pride and joy of the university. Since I was a freshman, every student he has requested I help has graduated with honors and gone on to promising careers. I look at the name on the card – Isabella Swan and I think jeez – The cops daughter – of all people. My family lived in the same town as the Swans so I saw her once or twice several years ago and thought her elevator doesn't exactly travel to the penthouse if you know what I mean. It's no wonder then that mathematics is not her strong suit.

I look towards the door and there she is - same mousy brown hair, pale complexion, saucer wide eyes cast downward and dragging her feet when she walks that I remember. There is a woman inside this girl that I need to help and not only in the academic capacity. She requires the means to self confidence, a lesson in women's fashion, and certainly a haircut and a posture correction. But we must first work on the reason we came in the first place – math. I give a little wave and she starts towards me.

She approaches the table hesitantly and I can understand how she sees me. I am of a petite height and weight; however I love my clothes and wear leather and chains proudly. I also sport a very pixie haircut and have 2 piercings in each ear which makes me seem somewhat of a badass but underneath the rebel exterior beats a marshmallow if I do say so myself.

I ask if she would like anything and she requests a cup of herbal tea. Oh boy, she really is staid and studious. I order a large latte and we are seated. I tell her about me and ask why Dr. Emmett thinks she needs a tutor. She tells me she is flunking basic math and unless she passes she will lose her scholarship and all chances of graduating. I tell her we can meet 3 times a week to work on it starting tonight as we will head back to her dorm room after we have our coffee. As we are drinking our drinks, I ask her questions about her life. She is hesitant at first to tell me but she settles in and starts telling me about Bella.

**Bella's POV**

As I arrive at the coffeehouse, I notice all the preppy students sitting around and think to myself it is a good thing that I am not like them. I don't even like coffee, this place is just central to campus that it is easier to make this a meeting place than the library or the study hall. I knew her right away because she stood out from the crowd. She wears leather pants with a very tight tank and a leather jacket. Her silver jewelry is all skulls and bones and creepy things that I do not want to know what they all stand for. This? This person is whom Mr. Emmett thinks can help me get better math grades?

I slowly walk over to her and we place our order and head for an empty table. She seems familiar and I cannot quite put my finger on it. I shake the odd feeling off and start answering her most basic questions about me.

Settling into a comfortable conversation she asks about the class and why I feel I might be having a hard time. I try to explain to her that I just think I do not have an analytical problem solving brain function, she giggles and says that everyone has it; they just need to know how to use it. I get the feeling she is not only talking about mathematics.

She says we can meet 3 times a week to go over it but that I must make an effort and not expect her to do all the work. I agree to this and she says we can start immediately.

As we head out of the coffeehouse and over to my dorm room, I think to myself that Alice may look strange, but deep down we may be a little alike and that we might become friends.

**Readers:** What do you think of my version of Alice? Is Bella going to meet her fantasy man? Thank you and please review if you have gotten this far!


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